


Mix and mingle

by SrebrnaFH



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awards, Crossover, DADT, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Established Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, John Watson is a Good Doctor, John is Smarter than he looks, M/M, Military occasions, Past Connections, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, consulting husbands, mentions of other fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24285859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SrebrnaFH/pseuds/SrebrnaFH
Summary: On a military award occasion, Tony isolates himself from the general military-ness around him. He is by far not the only civilian present, and the guy leaning on the bar next to him is certainly interesting. If a little mad.
Relationships: Eve Baird/Flynn Carsen (mentioned) - Relationship, Jennifer Keller/Rodney McKay (mentioned), Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 99





	Mix and mingle

**Author's Note:**

> It was just a random plot bunny that came across my brain shouting "Sherlock deduces Tony at a bar!" and ran away ;)  
> I'm assuming no Civil War happened on MCU side and no S4 or even probably most of S3 on Sherlock side. Just. Happily living.  
> Also, other military personnel and related scientists may appear ;)

He glanced at the man next to him at the bar, idly playing with an empty tumbler on the counter. He didn’t look military. In fact, if there was anyone in the room who looked less military than himself, it was the tall drink of water now slouching - in an impossibly sexy way - on a bar stool next to him.

“Mine is up for an award, too,” the man said, out of the blue.

Correction, a tall drink of Earl Grey. Or English Breakfast.

“Why...”

“It's obvious. You don’t voluntarily socialise with people around us, and you are not mingling _or_ at least sitting down with one of the groups, which you would have, if you were invited for yourself. You would be sitting down with your partner, if you were just a Significant Other of someone who participates. Both of these are out, since I don't see an empty chair at any of the other tables, other than the one my seat is at. I know that all the award recipients were, idiotically, shepherded into a separate room, and the leftovers are me, the irritating Canadian with citrus allergy, the very distracted chief librarian of something or other whose partner's name is Eve, and an unidentified person who had not even sat down, but who would be watching his partner getting awarded, because why else be here tonight. By the process of elimination, you are attached to the big, blonde and buff Captain who has been swapping Army stories with my John backstage."

Tony grinned. The taller man was obviously brilliant, if slightly deranged. With that accent even being mad sounded attractive, though.

"Big, blonde and buff, that's quite correct," he smiled, glancing at the stage, where yet another general was droning away about one thing or other, none of them pertaining to Steve, so...

"... injury ... Afghanistan ..."

He stiffened, breath hitching, heart constricting painfully. He was almost over it, almost, but still, damnably, when he was taken by surprise... He tried to replace the glass on the counter, but his fingers were shaking way too much.

A strong, slim hand caught his and liberated the glass while its curious owner regarded him inquisitively.

"Anthony Stark, I presume. I'm Sherlock Holmes. My husband was part of the first team who treated you..." he nodded to where the general had stopped droning and Tony gulped for breath, glancing towards the stage, now nearly **filled** with the concentrated pure presence of one short, round-faced man in the dress uniform of British Army - and, if FRIDAY's hints on his glasses were correct, Medical Corps insignia.

_Oh._

"Thank you, sir," the cultured, bright tenor easily reached to the end of the chamber. "I accept this award on behalf of my whole unit, who were vital to the success of the surgery. The situation was not one we were expecting to have to deal with, but then, what is, during a military operation? We all know that plans never survive the first contact with the enemy, doubly so if the enemy is illness, injury and own body and self. Since the problem we faced went so far outside of the scope of experience of anyone on the team, I have submitted my whole unit for commendation as soon as it was possible for the security reasons. I have to point out here, however, that due to the extremely high time pressure and dramatic lack of resources we were unable to fully treat our patient and were forced to release him into the care of US military in condition that I can only call less than optimal. I am very sorry that we were not allowed to complete our treatment on site..."

"They were forced to hand you over, threatened by court martial," the man next to him - Sherlock? What a name... - murmured. "John has never been more pissed off at anyone, I think. He still curses whenever your case is mentioned, after all these years."

Tony blinked, looking at back at that small, not-so-imposing man, who had apparently had his hands deep in Tony's body, and not in a fun way.

"He is... getting an award... for saving me?"

"It is explained as 'exemplary cooperation between services and for bravery under fire', which is a fancy way to say 'for saving an important military-related person from another country while being shot at'. The hospital came under attack when you were in surgery."

Tony pressed a fist to his solar plexus, pushing on the mass of scars there, grounding himself.

"I didn't know," he murmured finally. "Rhodey never went into any details... I wasn't in a very good state at the time... or immediately later."

"Presence of that medical unit out there was not generally known, even in the military. In fact, it was..."

"Secret both from our own troops and allies, Sherlock," 'John' managed to sneak up on them and revelled in his husband's reaction, going by the wide, easy smile that emerged when Holmes jerked up in surprise. "Mister Stark, it's good to see you up and about. I was worried for a time... Did you get the shrapnel removed successfully later on?"

Tony sighed and slumped on the counter, nodding.

"We... I had to live with that battery unit for some time, but..."

His attention was drawn to the front of the room and even feeling the eyes of his new acquaintances on him did not affect his focus.

"Please welcome on the stage, the one and only, Captain Steven Rogers...!"

It sounded like an introduction at a stand-up comedy evening, or a poetry slam, and sometimes all their public appearances felt like that. At that point, their lives were no more than a stage show occasionally interspersed with terror and acts of bravery. This here was the showbusiness part. Steve and Tony, the show duo, the...

"I am deeply honoured with this award, which, just like Major Watson, I accept on behalf of my whole team," his partner bowed awkwardly to the too-short microphone, hunching over it like Mr Incredible over his too-small desk. "As a man born in another era, I am usually stumped by many aspects of modern life..."

"No, he isn't."

"Sherlock!"

"Quite correct, Mr Holmes," Tony confirmed softly.

"...however the one thing we all have in common is the capacity for sacrifice, which works the same no matter what century we are from. Both us and our team are willing to lie down our lives for the just cause and we are more than ready..."

"Us?"

"He means himself and Mr Stark. You told me yourself they share the leadership, John."

"Oh. I though it was Captain Rogers who was getting rewarded..."

Tony sighed.

"Most of the military brass hate me."

John frowned, but looked back to the stage, where Steve was finishing one of his famous spur-of-the-moment speeches that left people feeling wanting and, in more susceptible ones, left an unkillable need to follow some just cause. Tony had long joked that he wished he could bottle whatever pheromones his man was emitting, but the terrible power of Captain America's Honest Stare was not something one could simply synthesise.

"What did you do? Insult a general?"

"Among other things," Tony confirmed distractedly, watching the play of muscles under Steve's well-fitted vintage dress uniform. The army was conflicted on which exactly set he should be wearing on occasions like this, but the power of symbolism won over the protocol for once, and in the sea of blues, Steve stood out in his old green-and-beige combination, making him look like a _dream_. "Also made them look like a bunch of jackasses, saved New York from a nuke they shot at us, stopped producing weapons, stopped my employees from selling the rest on black market, insulted a defence minister and proved that their next chosen weapons contractor was a crook."

"Nice resume..."

"And I'm defiling a national icon on a daily basis."

John choked on his swig of beer.

"I thought DADT was repelled...?"

"Indeed it was. That doesn't mean narrow-minded bigots don't get conniptions thinking about Captain America boinking a bloke."

"Or a bloke boinking Captain America," Holmes grinned with a little wink. "We are fortunate that John's military friends don't really mind, or if they do, they manage to contain themselves. We only had to destroy two..."

"Three, I'm still counting that general who choked."

"Three people, yes. One of them being an American, and that's why I don't count him. John is equipped with some very conservative family..."

"One of my cousins--more like uncles--is a general in US Army. He didn't react positively to Sherlock kissing me at a family dinner."

"Not to disparage anyone's family, but good riddance. People like that are giving Steve hard time for submitting to the wiles of a pervert like me, and me for, well, dirtying the perfect image of the face of US Army with my bad boy's roughness."

"Roughness?" Steve's hands went around Tony's waist and he melted, nearly immediately, into the warm embrace.

"You know. You are the innocent blushing Catholic choir boy and I'm the big bad billionaire who had led you astray."

"Ah, sure. I'm so easily influenced, God help me and America, who knows what will happen to me if I stay with you even one day more...!"

"Exactly. Awful. See? Just what I said."

"And who are you advertising your stellar qualit... Oh, hello, Major Watson. Sorry, I was distracted..."

"Not an issue, Captain. I understand perfectly."

There was a moment of silence as two pairs smiled at each other.

"Just to clarify between all of us - I'm John Watson, Sherlock's husband," the British soldier said after a heartbeat of a pause. "I was sure you wouldn't remember me, since we pumped you full of some pretty potent stuff by the time we met, so... yeah."

"You already know who I am," Tony grinned. "And this is my partner and, as you correctly said, co-leader of our unit, Captain Steve Rogers. Honey, this is Sherlock Holmes. The detective."

"Enchanted, Mr Holmes. As part of my introduction to the twenty-first century, my friends have shown me the record of your work. Quite extraordinary. And some fascinating writing, Major."

Holmes nodded sharply, but seemed please with the praise - both to him and his husband.

The Canadian's partner, also a military doctor, was now being applauded for whatever her presentation had been and her man, despite his obnoxiousness, was the first one to stand up and start clapping. Apparently even annoying, self-absorbed scientists had some social graces, who would have guessed...

"Doctor Keller," John nodded towards the medic, still on the stage, now blushing furiously. "Her work on extraterrestrial enzymes is quite brilliant. I promised Sherlock I would introduce him later, since he is fascinated with the stuff, but..." he looked at Tony, then at Steve. "Would you two be up for a drink after this thing is done?"

He looked up, meeting his partner's blue gaze. They nodded in synch.

"Sure. Sure. We could stay here, or you could come to the Tower. More private, less people trying to eavesdrop..."

Holmes narrowed his eyes, but nodded, too.

"Absolutely. A good idea. John?"

"I'd be damned stupid to turn down an invitation like this," Major Watson smiled at both of them. "I definitely need to hear the end of that story, Captain Rogers, if only to be able to tell my unit who exactly we have rescued."

Tony frowned, turning up to check Steve's sheepish expression.

"What story?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, dear. Just boasting about you a bit."

"M-hm. We'll talk later—"

"Shush."

Since Steve had long discovered that kissing was one of the few things to effectively shut Tony up, he completely missed what it was that Colonel Eve Baird had been given an award for, but he didn't exactly care. If she had saved the world from total annihilation, JARVIS would have a record of that, for sure.


End file.
